' They always got to
stick the Work in if they see a chance! I reckon you did have the
'emotional strain,' and that's all's the matter with you. You'll be
over it soon's this woman's gone, and Work's the very thing to make
you quit frettin' about her."
"Did Gurney tell you I was fit to work?"
"Shut up!" Sheridan bellowed. "I'm so sick o' that man's name I
feel like shootin' anybody that says it to me!" He fumed and chafed,
swearing indistinctly, then came and stood before his son. "Look
here; do you think you're doin' the square thing by me? Do you?
How much you worth?"
"I've got between seven and eight thousand a year clear, of my own,
outside the salary. That much is mine whether I work or not."
"It is? You could'a pulled it out without me, I suppose you think,
at your age?"
"No. But it's mine, and it's enough."
"My Lord! It's about what a Congressman gets, and you want to quit
there! I suppose you think you'll get the rest when I kick the
bucket, and all you have to do is lay back and wait! You let me
tell you right here, you'll never see one cent of it. You go out o'
business now, and what would you know about handlin' it five or ten
or twenty years from now? Because I intend to STAY here a little
while yet, my boy! They'd either get it away from you or you'd sell
for a nickel and let it be split up and--" He whirled about, marched
to the other end of the room, and stood silent a moment.
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